Laugh
by HarleyQuinn255
Summary: I found the Joker's psyche disturbing, his, dementia alarming, and his charm irresistible. What can I say? The guy just did it for me. (Rated M for language)


_**Author's Note:**_** Hello all this is my first fan fiction! I hope you enjoy it and please rate and review! I would love feedback. I apologize if there is any grammar mistakes, I proof read it a kagillion times, but still. Anyhow, I hope you all like it! **_**Disclaimer:**_** I do NOT own Batman or any of its characters, that rightfully belongs to DC, so please put the leashes back on your lawyers. Haha**

_Laugh_

_Harley Quinn. _What do you think of when you hear that name? The Joker's bimbo, opheliac cling on? The blonde slut that the Joker seduced for hired help? Well whatever it is, it probably is wrong. Just some interpreted shit that you thought was the whole story. No, the Joker never seduced me. I wanted him first, he's completed me, he fills in that dark gap in my heart, I knew it from the moment I saw his cold, dark cell as an intern at Arkham Asylum…

We walked through the dark corridor, the blood curdling screams and cries of the insane echoing through the halls. There were small barred windows on each cell door. You could see the inmates staring at you with those cold, lifeless eyes. Dr. Leland asked me questions about my interest in these types of patients. But from the looks of it, these inmates were anything but patient. She made me feel as though I was been interrogated. Her mouth was smiling, but her eyes showed, something else- disgust? No not disgust… what was it? I think it was more along the lines of just unapproving… But her distaste wasn't going to get to me. I had been deep in thought, so I had barely noticed when we stopped by a certain cell. I stared at the name stated in chipped and worn out, black paint.

THE JOKER

The door's cold steel was dull and unwelcoming. My heart skipped a beat, not in fear, but in an excitement, that even now, I could never explain. I placed my slender hand on it lightly, and muttered under my breath. "May I see him?" I could feel him, even with the thick iron door separating us; I could feel his warmth. Dr. Leland looked slightly taken aback by this, but quickly regained herself. "Sometime soon, maybe. But he's highly unstable, if you do well with the less dangerous patients, then you may be able to start working with him." She replied. I nodded silently.

That night I sat in my office, my blonde hair down from its tight, constricting bun, the small desk lamp illuminated the files I was reading. I glanced at the clock, 12:03. There was a creaking sound and my head snapped in the direction, I investigated the room with my eyes, but there was nothing there. I shook my head, it was just exhaustion, I told myself. I took off my glasses and rubbed the bridge of my nose, squeezing my tired eyes shut. I looked back at the files, and picked my highlighter. The things it said about him, it just didn't add up, there was something missing to his story.

The people here at Arkham Asylum thought he was just another sick lunatic, who enjoyed killing and maybe something had traumatized him as a child. They didn't care what caused it, just the cure. They tried to cure the madness with torture and meds. I raised my head slightly to look out the window, but something else caught my eye, a beautiful crimson red rose with a note attached to the stem. Written in neat, pitch black ink was:

Come down and see me some time. - J

Against my will, I felt the corners of my mouth lift into a slight smile.

The next morning I walked to the Joker's cell. I had been given a key the night before, and lucky for me, all the keys for the cells in Arkham are the same. I had to shut the door behind me, or he might've tried to escape, so I closed the thick iron, listening to in squeak as it slowly slammed shut, locking me in like a cage, which, in a way, was true. As surprising as it sounds, I wasn't frightened; I wasn't scared at the fact that I was locked in the same cell as an insane, mass murderer, that even in the poor state he was in, could easily kill me without even breaking a sweat. But I knew that he wouldn't, somehow I knew that he wouldn't harm me.

I held up the note in between my index and middle finger. "Care to explain how this got in office?" I asked sternly. But he saw right through my bluff. He smirked. "I put there." He replied carelessly, like it was no big deal. I tried to stay stern. "I'm sure the guards would be very interested to find out what you were doing out of your cell." I continued. Once again he saw right through me. He glanced at me and started to get off his cot. "If you were really going to tell the guards, you already would have." He stated. The Joker was right. I wouldn't have told the guards, whether my gut told me to or not. That feeling, what was it? My chest was on fire; my stomach was full of flying insects. He looked at the name tag that was pinned neatly my right breast. "Harleen Quinzell." He read his voice syrup. Then he looked at my face, it was only for a brief moment, but I could tell he had taken in every detail, he had stared my into soul, saw every flaw, and accepted it. He stepped behind me, we were as close as we could get, I could feel his hot breath my neck as he whispered, "It doesn't suit you..." I felt goose bumps rise on my arms. I looked at quizzically as he walked away from me and leaned against the wall. But inside my heart I wanted him near me again. He looked in thought for a moment. "Hmm… Rearrange it a little and you get _Harley Quinn_!" he exclaimed drawing a smile on his face with his fingers. I crossed my arms and replied, "Yeah, like clown character Harlequin. I know, I've heard it before." The Joker looked at me and grinned. "Oh, but it's much more than that." I tried to hide my smile as I walked away, and then I heard his voice behind me, "It makes me feel like there is someone here that I can relate to, someone who might like to know all my secrets, who will listen to all I have to say." The smile came out as I shut the thick door behind me, and locked him into his dark cage once more.

As I walked back to my office his words echoed through my head, and at that point I knew that I already belonged to him. It took me three months to set up an appointment with The Joker; I studied all his tricks and thought I was ready for anything. I asked him about his feelings, his childhood, and his interests. The subject that always evoked the most emotion in him was when I brought up Batman. I knew that most of his stories weren't entirely true; they were probably different every time he told them, but they all had the same premise. He lay on the couch, his hands folded neatly on his stomach. His gaze was focused on the dull ceiling. "You know, my father used to beat me pretty badly." He said. I gasped, I wasn't very surprised, but It was still heart wrenching. "Yep, every time I got out of line, _boom! _Or sometimes, I'd be just sitting there, doing nothing- _pow!_ Pop favored the grape you see…"

I said nothing, waiting for him to continue. He looked deep in thought for a few moments and then went on. "There was only one time I think I ever saw dad happy. He took me to the circus when I was seven." He recalled fondly. "Oh I still remember the clowns running around, dropping their pants! Dad laughed so hard, I thought he'd bust a gut! So the very next night, I came up to him with his best Sunday pants on, Hey dad! _zoop!_ I tripped on the rug, and tore the crotch clean out of his pants!" We laughed together for a long while, but then it was abruptly stopped by the Joker concluding with, "And then he broke my nose…" I stopped my laughing, and stared at him. There was this sadness in my heart, I shouldn't be feeling sad for a homicidal murderer, but yet I did, could I have been in love with him? No, it wasn't possible, nor was it okay. I tried to shove the foolish thought out of my head.

One day, I sat in my office and a guard burst through the door. "The Joker has escaped!" he cried and ran out. I just sat there, shocked, wondering how. But of course the Joker was a genius, it probably wasn't difficult. I sat in worry for the next week, there was no sign of him, with my other patients I could barely listen, and I couldn't focus on my work. Then one day I was walking through the corridor when I saw a tall, dark figure walk through, dragging a pale, green haired man. His purple suit tattered, a bloody nose, and broken teeth. The story you all have heard was that I rushed toward him and held him until the doctors ripped him from my arms. But in truth, all I could do was stand there and watch. I ran to my office and slammed the door behind me. Slumping down, I put my face in my hands, and cried. But soon the sadness turned into anger. Bravery and rashness swept over me like a tsunami, it flooded my system, I ran out into the parking lot and jammed my key into the ignition of my car, speeding off into the city. The sky was like concrete, the smell of pavement filled my nostrils, I felt the madness that was hidden in me start to overtake me, I welcomed it, it felt like ecstasy.

Being skilled with a sewing machine, I sewed my costume together in no time. Sneaking down the Joker's cell, my heart broke when I saw him. He was lying there, asleep, and arm cast and a head bandage. I took a deep breath as the madness took over the last bit of sanity or logic that remained, and blew the door open with my gun. Standing over him I exclaimed, "Hiya Puddin! Say hello to your new and improved _Harley Quinn_!" my Boston accent replacing the professional tone that I had worked so hard on.

As we sped through the dark, rainy night, The Joker laughing hysterically by my side, Harleen Quinzell died.

And was reborn into Harley Quinn…

FINN

_**A.N:**_** And… done! I hoped you all enjoyed! Please don't forget to R&R! **


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